


Voice X Mail

by necroneol



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Phone Sex, Voicemail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necroneol/pseuds/necroneol
Summary: In which Leorio misses Kurapika a little too much.





	Voice X Mail

Kurapika never answered Leorio’s calls, but he listened to the messages he left behind, every night, every day. All the time. He would listen to snippets on his way to places he had to be, or play them before sleeping as he lay rigid atop his blankets, or at his desk, sitting stiffly in his rolling chair. The metal of his phone was cold against his skin. He pressed play on tonight’s voice mail, and put it to his ear.

_“Kurapika.”_

Kurapika’s heart wrenched and warmed and twisted all at once. He lowered his gaze, to a chip in the wood on the corner of his desk. These messages were getting harder and harder to listen to. Even the seemingly hopeful, happy ones left Kurapika distraught and plagued with guilt and longing. He steeled himself.

_“I miss you.”_

A pause.

_“You could answer right now, y’know. We could talk like nothing was happening. Like it’s all okay. We could pretend, if that’s what you want. All you have to do is pick up.”_

Kurapika had listened enough times to recognize the subtle warble in his voice. It made his throat tighten. His free hand came up to grip the body of his earthy, grey-green tie. He held his breath and waited for Leorio to continue.

_“You never pick up. Are you even alive? Are you even listening to these? Do you ever think of me?”_

 Kurapika wanted to cry _yes! yes!_ But there was no use. Not for his sake or anyone else’s. Even if Leorio was here, no amount of crying could make up for this. Even if he said it aloud to no one at all, it would do nothing to relieve the pain. 

There was a very long pause this time. Kurapika looked down at the softly glowing screen, to see if the voice mail was even still going, and when he saw it was, he put it patiently back to his ear. Finally, he heard a sniffle, and then a groan, long and low, pained.

_“I think of you, all the time. I think of your voice, your smile, your smell…I—oh…Kurapika…”_

Kurapika swallowed hard, and closed his eyes, rolling his head back. He could hear the sound of rustling something, Leorio shifting, perhaps. And then, another groan, pained still, but huskier this time. Kurapika’s already pinched brow deepened its crease, quizzically.

Leorio’s groans had turned to softer moans, and his breath, occasionally hitched as he spoke, now puffed softly into the microphone. Kurapika’s cheeks flushed the instant he realized what he was hearing. He went to withdraw his phone from his ear, to check the number, the name it was assigned, anything to prove or disprove that this was Leorio Paladinight, but a strained utterance of his name quickly stopped the Kurta in his tracks. Shock was the first thing to take the young man. He opened his eyes, staring wildly at the space before him, not quite seeing, but darting around blindly. Kurapika’s face was hot, uncomfortably so, and his stomach felt hollow and heated, too. Leorio was still whimpering in his ear, mewing his name.

_“I-I miss you,”_ Leorio muttered, not for the first time that night, and certainly not for the last. There was an amount of desperation in his voice, but his words were slow like dripping honey. _“Kurapika…why wont you pick up…the damn phone?”_

His name uttered so lewdly, so honestly did nothing to cease the warm feeling gathering between his thighs, and in his chest and his cheeks. Kurapika’s eyelids lowered half-way, and he tugged his tie loose. Just enough to breathe. His hand slid down his chest, down his stomach, to his waist. He snapped the buttons of his black slacks undone and simply placed a hand above his groin, kneading the pressure building there, but not quite holding, nor touching the skin just yet.

_“K-Kurapika,”_ His name again. Kurapika hissed through gritted teeth and rolled his head back against the headboard of his office chair 

“Leorio..”

As if in response, Leorio moaned on the other line, breathy in the mic. Kurapika unclenched his jaw and let out a low, wistful sigh. He slid his hand into his briefs. Leorio was panting heavily now. He must be close.

_“Kurapika, I miss you,”_ A little more urgently, Leorio whispered, _“Oh, fuck, I’m—gonna…K-Kurapika, I lo—“_

A soft beep. The voicemail had reached its recording limit. Kurapika’s eyes flashed open, and he released a strained, frustrated, sad growl. With a dampness to his eyes, he pulled his phone away to stare down at the screen. He read and reread and read again Leorio’s name at the top. Kurapika imagined what his face would have looked like right now, if he had seen him like this, slouched and melting in his office chair, hair ruffled against the back, shirt untucked and pants pulled haphazardly and barely out of the way. Kurapika hovered his finger over the touchscreen, and pressed play.


End file.
